Life Studies
by Axel'sWaterBaby
Summary: Next year, Matthew was pretty sure he wouldn't put off studying for the SATs. And he was definitely sure he wouldn't ask his family for help. AU hints at RusCan. For CuteLikeMomiji


**Disclaimer: **I don't Hetalia; it's the property of Hidekazu Himaruya. However, if he ever gets tired of it, I'll take it off his hands :P

This is an High school!AU. Matthew is in 9th grade, and Alfred's in 10th.

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><p>Let it be known, that SATs, whether it be subject tests or the real thing, sucked. However, the only thing that sucked worse than the actual test, was prepping and freaking out before it. There was no possible way that I'd be prepared and ready tomorrow. Sighing, I bit the tip of my eraser, and looked at the next question. <em>The pH of the human blood is slightly basic. Which of the following is most likely to be the pH of human blood? <em>

_Great question, _I thought sarcastically. _I'm not taking the freaking Chemistry test, why the hell should I care about pH? _Glaring at the question, I scratched out the first, third, and last answer. Mom always said that I had to narrow it down to two choices, than just picked the one that was right or else.

It wasn't fair. Just 'cause Al took the Bio last year, and got a freaking 750 (and still kept saying that he wish he'd done better, the asshole), I have to take this stupid test. Stupid parents.

_Alright, so when something's basic, that means the pH is higher right? What's pH anyway? It said slightly, so it has to be either B or D, either 7.4 or 6.4. _I bit my lip. I really wanted to know the answer, but since it's Chem related, the best way to know was to ask Al. He was downstairs in the living room prepping for that SAT test.

Supposedly. I wouldn't put it past him to be playing StarCraft with Yong Soo. Al never studied for anything, it was annoying how much free time he'd have. Free time spent annoying the crap out of me.

I sighed. It seemed like all I was doing lately, was sighing. Stupid tests. I was about to grab my book, when my brother waltz into the room, a excited and smug expression on his face.

Once Al saw me, he came over and gave me a huge hug and patted my on the back. "Guess what, Mattie?"

Rolling my eyes, I removed his hand from my shoulder blade (aka the scapula). "What." It wasn't even a question; honestly, I couldn't actually care less about Al right now, all I wanted to do was study.

My brother just laughed, his voice booming off the walls. That was another thing about Al, he was always loud, just like everything he liked. Since the two of us shared a room, of waking up in the middle of the night to his ipod blasting Greenday (which was freaking annoying, they weren't even that good!) wasn't an uncommon event.

"Well, Mattie," Al began. That's another thing, I hated how he shortened my name, my name was Matthew (or Mathieu if it was Dad), and I wanted to be addressed as such. Not Matt or Mattie. "Guess who just got a 750 on their practice SAT?"

Al's smile was blinding, and I looked away in the hopes I wouldn't go blind. He kept standing there, as if he was waiting for me to throw myself at his feet and call him God.

What. An. Asshole.

"Look Al," I said, rolling my eyes and trying not to sound too mean. "It's not so much that I don't care, so much is it that I don't care. At all."

"Someone's defensive~" Al sang, ducking when I threw Kumachu my stuffed bear, at him. I smirked when Al hit his head on the dresser instead.

Holding his (now broken) glasses, Al stuck his tongue out and grabbed Kumasaur from the ground. "You really need to work on your anger issues, Mattie. What would you've done if Kumajiro had gotten decapitated or defenestrated?"

So that's his name. For some ungodly reason, everyone else (and I mean everyone, including Jett, my other older brother, who spent most of his time wrestling crocodiles and the zoo. Damn Aussies) could remember his name except for me. It was weird, but then again, nothing was normal with our family. Our parents proved that.

Who else would take a trip around the world and adopt children who were all citizens of different countries?

I glared at Al, mustering all of my rage (which even when I was really angry wasn't that impressive). "Could you just leave?"

"This is my room too, " Al stated, pulling out another pair of glasses. After polishing them a bit, he smirked. "THIS LAND IS MY LAND~ THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND~ FROM THAT WALL~ TO THE OTHER...WALL..."

In vain, I tried to hide my smile. Sure, Al was an idiot, but he was a trollin' idiot. "Are you done?"

My brother just shrugged, feeling pleased with himself. I could practically feel the smugness radiating off of his body, seeping into the air and saturating it. Whatever, it'd probably be best if I just ignored him and waited until he was bored and wandered off. Maybe then, I could finally start studying for real, and not completely fail tomorrow.

I looked at the clock_. I can't believe it's already 7, it feels like there isn't enough time in the world. _I glanced back at my book, still trying to figure out the answer to the stupid pH question. Stupid Bio.

"It'd be B," Al said from behind me, a serious look on his face. I jumped, not expecting him to be looming above (I'm not sure why I was surprised, he always did that.) "When something's basic, the number is closer to 14. It's cause there's a lower hydrogen ion concentration, or in other words a higher hydroxyl concentration. Since it says it's only slightly basic, it'd be only a little past neutral, otherwise known as 7. Therefore, 7.4 has to be the right answer."

Sometimes I forgot, that underneath all the derpiness, Al was actually intelligent. Then again, I wasn't the other one. I looked at Al for a second, and that was (apparently) enough to make him smile, wink and make a victory sign. "I'm pretty awesome, wouldn't you say so, Mattie?"

Huffing in disdain, I pushed Al away. I wish I had a camera to record the surprised look on his face. We never really fought (physically anyway, Al was afraid he'd hurt me), so having me instigate was especially weird.

"I could have figured that out on my own, Alfred," I said angrily, grabbing my book. Usually, he didn't like being called his full name, he thought it sounded to pretentious for him (which he was right about. Seriously, who named a kid Alfred?) but he deserved it for being an ass. When I saw his face, I almost faltered. _Just ignore his wounded look Matthew, you have the right to be pissed. _

It was sad that I had to convince myself to stay angry. Almost as sad as my inability to be angry outside of hockey. Either way, I was still better than either Heracles or Kiku.

"Downstairs is free," Al suggested, "Why don't you study down there? Jett's around in case you need help or anything. He knows a lot about biology."

"He's a animal rangler Al, that's different from people. We eat ani–"

Soon enough I was bombarded with shouts of "Fish are friends, not food, "Aye, they will roast him and eat him," and "I know all about cannibalism. I saw it on TV!"

Al is, and shall always be, a complete troll. Only he'd go all "Finding Nemo", "Pirates of the Caribbean", and "The Shining" on my ass, and, nevertheless, with a smug look on his face.

I smiled. Sometimes my family was awesome, just not before a test. Or during a holiday. Or on school breaks. My family was rarely awesome.

"Maybe you're right," I said, laughing at Alfred's victory pose. "See you later."

"Where you going?"

"I'm leaving you." I stated. Whenever I left a room, Al always broke into this song. Sometimes it was endearing, other times it was just plain annoying. Like Al.

"No you ain't!"

"Yes, yes I am Al. Have fun playing StarCraft," I yelled, skipping down the stairs and ignoring the random Korean that Al started spewing at the mention of his kryptonite. Any other time I would make fun of him for being so obsessed with a game, but I was too anxious to actually study for my exam.

Stupid neurotic behavior.

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><p>Walking downstairs, I saw Jett in front of the tv, a boomerang in one hand, a Coopers beer in the other. As I got closer I saw that his pet koala, Monty, was on the floor, an eucalypt leaf in his mouth, and the tv was turned to the BBC.<p>

BBC was almost always on at my house.

I waited behind Jett for a couple of seconds, waiting for him to turn around and acknowledge me, before remembering that he was a bigger asshole than Al was. Jett never noticed I was around. _Which is why I spit in his food_, I thought.

Nervously, I tried to clear my throat of any hesitation.

"Hey Jett, I was wondering if you could hel–"

"Can't," Jett yawned. "It's Mabo Day. Today, all I'm doing is celebrating my Aussie charm."

Scowling, I could feel my head burn with rage. "You're not an indigenous Australian, Jett. You live in the U.S., today doesn't apply to yo–"

"Shhhhhh," Jett said, turning around and putting a finger to his lips. "Anyone who hasn't ridden a kangeroo has lost the right to speak. That means you need to shut the bloody hell up, alright mate?"

"Oh my god, you're even more racist than Carlos," I cried, face-palming. I didn't think it was possible that anyone could be worse than my Cuban friend; every time he say me he asked how much fatter Alfred had gotten, but that might have just been because they hated each other.

If that was the case, then Carlos hated a lot of people.

Jett took a swig of his beer and burped. "I'm not being racist, I'm being bleeding honest. And at least I'm not French."

"Jett, Dad's from France."

"Exactly," Jett said, finishing his beer and throwing it above my_ freaking head_, and into the trash bin. I quickly made a mad dash towards the door, my prep book in hand, in the hopes I could escape this hell before my _darling _(deranged) brother could throw something else at me.

Before slamming the door, I poked my head in. "Thanks for, like always, being completely freaking useless, Jett. It's much appreciated."

I will always love the sound of a boomerang hitting a door, it's almost as good as a boomerang hitting Al's head.

* * *

><p>Our porch sucked. Seriously. There was the old boat that Mom had tried to put together a few years ago to relive his pirate phase, the pond Jett used to keep his old pet eel alive (it didn't last very long), one of Alfred's "I Am America and So Can You" books (because he bought like 5) was in the corner, on top of his red, white and blue jumpsuit, his father's "scent laboratory", where his Dad made his own perfume (which I thought smelled like horse dung, but dad called, "<em>amor<em>"), took up the entire left side, and my tiny contribution was my goalie gear.

Alright, maybe that wasn't so tiny.

Anyway, the point is that our porch was a war zone, but at the very least, it as quiet. No one really came out here, mostly because it was such a mess, and that made it the perfect study zone.

Quickly, I sat down and opened my book to the page I was on. The fresh air was motivating me, I could feel the peacefulness just washing over me.

Nothing would bother me here. No stupid brothers, no slightly racist jokes, nothing.

"What are you doing out here, comrade?"

Groaning, I hit my head on the step. When I looked up, I saw my friend (that's all, I swear!) Ivan staring at me with his purplish-blue eyes. _I forgot how cool his eyes were. It's like looking into the Arctic Ocean. _He smiled when he saw me looking.

What. An. Asshole.

"W-What br-brought you here, Ivan?" I asked, trying to will the blush spreading across my face away. I hated stuttering, especially in front of my Russian friend. He always said that it was–

Ivan tilted his head, and, with one hand, dragged me to my feet. "Your blush makes you look edible, _мой свет_."

As a man, I'm not ashamed to admit that I flailed pathetically at this. My pride, or what's left of it after my crazy-ass family has done their best to strip me of it (what other 9th grader had to worry about their parents having sex at a parent-teacher conference?), can take that hit. However, I am ashamed at how easily Ivan pinned my arms to my side.

_There you go Matthew, Jett was right all those years ago. You're clearly useless. _Looking down, I tried my best to push Ivan away, but it was to no avail. "Ivan, what do you want?"

"Hmmm?" Ivan hummed, one hand locked on both of my wrists, the other playing with his ever-present scarf. "All I wanted to know was if you would go practice hockey with me, we need to be in good shape for the summer camp, _да_?"

I'm not entirely sure how I missed the massive bag of equipment that Ivan had on his back. Maybe it was because when you've known Ivan as long as I have, you just ignore the weird things he does. Or maybe I'm just oblivious.

It's hard to say.

"I can't, I have to study for the Bio SAT," I said regretfully. Playing hockey with Ivan was so ridiculously fun; we could only play together after he knocked all some kid's teeth, and I broke Al's arm a few years ago. And for the camp we were going to (run by some really cool Swedish guy, Mr. Oxenstierna), we'd need to be in the best shape...

As if he could read my hesitation, Ivan took the book that I was still holding on to, and threw it to the ground. He held out his hand, waiting to lead me towards our practice field. "The best thing you can do now, is relax. Cramming will just make you mess up more. Let's play, _да_?"

I smiled and took his hand. "_да._"

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><p>I took a calming breath as my instructor, a crazy old man named Germania, gave the okay for us to open our exam booklets and begin. I held that "calm breath" as the first question came into view.<p>

_The consumption of human flesh in order to fulfill dietary needs, is known as what?_

Not even Mr. Germania could stifle my demented laughter.

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><p><strong>AN: **Okay, this is a combination Birthday fic and an Apology fic for CuteLikeMomiji, because lately, I've been like America to her Canada in this fic. Minus the Russia. But twice the Australia.

She's already read this, so she won't do anything about it, but whatever. I feel the need to post anything. So... Happy-I'm-Sorry-Birthday!

And no, that wasn't a real SAT question. If only, if only...

So please, leave a review if you liked it, if you hated it, if you found it offending (-ly hilarious!) or whatever.

See ya around, Starship Rangers


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